


Idiot Balls of Fluff

by intrinsicklutz



Category: Letterkenny (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Characters, Coming to Terms with Coming Out, Jonesy and Reilly really love each other, M/M, Multi, They just don't realize how much they love each other, Wayne thinks they're idiots but not bad guys, soft hockey bros
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-02-23 08:25:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13186200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intrinsicklutz/pseuds/intrinsicklutz
Summary: Written post season 2. I love these two super soft hockey players. I'm way more invested in them than I should be.





	1. Chapter 1

"How're ya now?" Wayne stretched out in his chair, squinting up at them. 

Reilly glanced at Jonesy first before offering a, "Not so bad, boys?" 

Jonesy added, "Yeah, not so bad boys. How're youse, boys?" 

"Not so bad." The toughest guy in Letterkenny took a long swig of his beer. "You almost made it down the laneway this time. What do you twos want?" 

"Well, we were uh," Reilly started, and Jonesy shifted next to him. 

"We were crushing sandos and we started thinking--" 

"Doubtful," Daryl snorted and spat.

"Jesus wept, boys, pitter patter," Wayne sighed. 

"Is Katy Kat back?" They asked in unison. 

"Oh," Wayne winced. "Don't call her that. And no. And when she comes back, it'll still be a no, because she's too good for you two washed-up pucksuckers." 

"Washed up!?" Reilly started forward, but then Wayne stood and they both took a big step back. They'd tried fighting their way through Wayne once. They learned the hard way that you just can't blend a sando. The blonde shook his hair and jutted his chin from their safe position. "This premium piece of Grade-A Alberta beef is not washed up. He's in his prime." 

"Thanks buddy," Jonesy tapped him on the chest. "And this chiseled stud blinds people with his abs and his sick flow. Look at him." 

"I think you do enough looking at him for all of Letterkenny, bud." With a flick of his wrist, Wayne dumped out the rest of his beer. "Now, what I don't understand is, why you even want Katy back. Youse go on all the time about your Big City gals and all the other tail you get." 

"Yeah but that doesn't count, boys. That's like..." 

"Extra, boys. We never slept with none of them. Just like, blowies, you know?" 

"Blowies and squeezies." 

"Everyone knows they don't count!" 

Daryl just kind of...stared from his chair. "They definitely count, ya goofs." 

"Now, I'm gonna say this once, because you two've been hit on the head more times than Squirrelly Dan's passed fudge. When you're dating a lady, pert near the only person who should be touching your middle stump's your lady. Understand?" 

"Bro, really?" Jonesy kind of laughed. 

"Yeah, bro, take it down about three ticky's. You're saying no one but your lady's supposed to take care of your dink?" 

"Well....yeah. Your lady or you." Wayne blinked. 

"Okay but like...no bathroom squeezies from your big fansies?" 

"No victory blowies with your billet sissies?" 

"No bedtime bro handys?" 

"Pump the brakes." Daryl sat up. "What was that last one?" 

"You know, when you're tired from a long roadie," Reilly started. 

"And you can't bring your big city snipes home," Jonesy added, "But like, you don't wanna do your five-on-one time yourself because you know how it's gonna go--" 

"I mean, there's only so many ways you can mix up mixing a batch, boys," Reilly nodded.

"So, you know, you just--" 

"No." Wayne groaned. 

"You do each other." 

"You do each other?" Daryl had this grin on his face that made Reilly step closer to Jonesy. 

"C'mon, boys, like you've never pulled each other's horns." 

"Never," Wayne crossed his arms. "I like girls."

"Well yeah, duh, we do too. This is just when it's your best flowbro." 

"You know, like when you and your shirttucker buddy are between girls. You've never--?" 

"No!" Wayne cut Jonesy off, louder this time. 

Daryl leaned forward, looking between them. "You're telling me that you two stickslappers actually slap each others sticks?" 

"That's a little gay, boys." Both of them bristled, but Wayne uncrossed his arms. "You want a beer?" 

"We're not gay!" 

Daryl pointed with his beer, and the hockey players looked down to where Reilly was holding onto Jonesy's arm. 

"You might be a little gay, fellas. I'm getting beer, unless you wanna stop holding hands and scrap instead." 

Reilly leaned into Jonesy's ear, paused as he realized what he was doing, then leaned back in because that's what they did. "Beer? Or brawl?" 

"I mean, beer right? I can't have another broken jaw." 

"Ferda." 

"Ferda." They tapped fists and looked back up at Wayne. "Beer?" 

"Alright. Stay there." Wayne turned to go to the house, paused, looked at them and shook his head before stalking off. Daryl kept watching them like they were a two-headed goat. 

"Is it really better than jerking yourself off?" 

"Oh, like, easily ten times better, bro," Reilly nodded. 

"Katy ever make you make out with each other?" Darry wiggled his eyebrows and Reilly blushed. "I knew it! Shit. Wayne owes me a fiver, I knew she would." 

"Maybe we should just go," Jonesy took another step back towards the Jeep. 

"No, you'll stay." Wayne came out with a six-pack. "You're gonna tell me what you twos will do to deserve Katy."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The idiot balls of fluff find another fluff.

"Hey, bro?" Reilly had his hands linked under his head, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars some past player'd stuck to the ceiling. The boys made fun of them all the time, but no one ever took them down. If he squinted, there was a smiley face above his bed. 

Jonesy rolled over, clearly half asleep already. Still, he cracked an eye as he nuzzled into his pillow. "Yeah bro?" 

"Remember that epic chirping the hicks gave us? First time we brought Katy home?" 

"...gonna be real with you, you beaut. I do not." 

"They said we prefer kittens and we kiss babies. But bro...have they ever held a kitten? It's like, this tiny squeaky ball of fluffsies. And then they start purring and they curl up on your chest and like, everyone should hold a kitten, bro." 

Jonesy yawned and burrowed deeper under the covers. "Tell you what, we'll go find kittens tomorrow. Bet Wayne likes 'em." 

"Ferda," Reilly stretched out across the gap between their twin beds and tapped his fist against Jonesy's exposed hand.

_X_ _X_ _X_ _X_ _X_ 

They were back by 10 the next morning, and the Letterkenny pound always had kittens from some hick's barn cat. Reilly ran his fingers over the bars on each cage door, waiting for a kitten to react. Some of them were sleeping, some were too fresh and scared of people, but there was a little all-black one that pounced excited at the bars. 

"Hey there tiger," Reilly grinned, opening the door to pull him out. 

"Whoa, bro, can you just--" Jonesy looked over to the volunteer sitting in the corner, but Reilly waved an impatient hand at him. 

"It's no problemski. Long as you're gentle with them and don't leave the doors open, you're golden." The kitten stretched up and sniffed at Reilly's chin, then batted at his hair. "Aren't you a little beaut?" 

"Reills, bud? How often do you come here?" Jonesy had a weird look on his face, kinda confused but kinda something else too. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, so he decided to ignore it. At least he wasn't chirping. 

With an easy shrug, Reilly said, "Not that often. Just sometimes when I'm feeling down and you're busy. This lil fella's new, though." He bounced the kitten a few times, then grinned at his best bro. "You wanna hold him?" 

"Um. Sure?" Jonesy carefully took the ball of fur and scratched behind his ears. A smile broke out on his face when the kitten started purring. "He likes me!" 

"Ferda. What's not to like?" Reilly watched the kitten climb up to Jonesy's shoulder and perch there, still purring, sniffing his hair. When his little nose moved from hair to ear, Jonesy started and giggled. 

"Lil dude, that tickles," he gasped, reaching up and pulling the fluff back down to his chest. Reilly knew that, knew that Katy loved to play with both of their ticklish spots, teasing them until they broke. It'd felt weird, having this one thing to himself. Not that they had to share everything, but for Jonesy to not even know about it. Now, though, Reilly's whole chest felt warm. For a second, he considered adopting the furry little hockey puck, taking him home and teaching him to fetch. He'd seen videos on the internet, it was totally possible. Binging the Amazing Race with a purr monster on his chest. Maybe leaned up on Jonesy like they did after a long pracky.

The chirping though. If any of the boys found out they adopted a cat together, the chirping would never stop. Or worse--the shirt-tuckers. Wayne and Daryl would never let them down the lane again. And Katy Kat was coming back in a week. 

But...

But Jonesy was scrunching his nose and rubbing it against the kitten's nose, and it was the best thing Reilly had seen this year, including that one bardownski he got at the start of the season. He swallowed. Just like he'd told Wayne, he did like girls. Too. It was just...that too was important. He liked Jonesy best, probably, except for sex, which he totally had with girls only. Except for the best brosie handies, but those weren't really sex. Those were just handies. Just one bro helping out another bro. It's not like he ever thought about Jonesy's hand when he was mixing his own batch. 

Fuck. This was all Wayne's fault. Nothing was weird until Wayne had called it a little...you know. The G-word. But he hadn't been a dick about it, not really, and Reilly hadn't been able to shake the thought from his head. Like a fuckoff big pylon stalking him on the ice, waiting to slam him into the boards. 

Jonesy looked up at him, eyes all wrinkled with his big smile, and Reilly felt the defender skate closer. This was a dumb idea. This might've been his dumbest idea ever. Dumber than manscaping with a cheap razor. He realized, belatedly, that he must look at bad as he suddenly felt, because Jonesy's smile faded. 

"You okay, boys?" 

"No, yeah, I'm great boys. Just realized how hungry I was. Wanna go for a sando?" 

"It's like. 10:30 in the morning." Both Jonesy and the kitten stared at him. He felt doubly judged and that was not fair at all. 

"Breakfast sando. Obvi. Whoever put eggs on a sando was a god. Like. Gretzky tier." 

"Ferda. Guess we've had enough kitten time. But I doubt even Wayne could hold out against this face, right?" Jonesy tried to pull the kitten off his chest and tiny claws clung to his shirt. It was a sign, he knew it was, just like the little dude looked like a hockey puck, just like Jonesy willingly brought him here and didn't think it was weird. 

Reilly didn't want any signs. He wanted things to go back to how they were. "C'mon, beaut," he eased the furball off of his best bro and slipped him back in the cage. "The kittens always go really fast. I'm sure you'll get got real soon, bud." A tiny paw reached out for his hand as he locked the door back and he nearly broke; it took everything he had to turn and walk away like he was chill. 

"Time for sandos. I'm thinking sourdough, cheddar, egg, Canadian bacon, a little mayo, sourdough." 

"I'm thinking bagel, Monterry jack, egg, regular bacon, avocado, jalapeno cream cheese, bagel." 

"Croissant, ancho-lime aioli, egg, green chilis, cheddar, croissant." 

"Gotta get that protein in." 

"Ferda." Reilly held out his fist, and Jonesy tapped it. It'd be fine. It'd be cool. They'd wheel a couple of snipes and everything would be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all don't worry the kitten will come back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the boys get some insight into rock bottom

Katy stretched, reaching her hands all the way up to the headboard and swinging her legs over Jonesy's hip. "Nice showing, boys. You almost lived up to your competition." 

"Yeah? You hooking up with fancy TV stars now?" Reilly leaned in and kissed across her cheek to her mouth. "Katy Kat the big city slam, getting in magazines and TV shows." 

"Katy Kat gonna be a Hollywood snipe, bro. Killing it all day, bro." Jonesy stroked her thigh. His hair was taller than usual, looking like the anime shit the skids used to love in high school. Katy ran her fingers through it, coaxing it higher. 

"All day and all night bro," Reilly grinned down at his bff. "Burning it up in Toronto, bro." 

"Lighting it on fire cause she's so smoking hot, bro." Jonesy leaned over and caught Katy's closest nipple. She hummed with pleasure, and Reilly's dick twitched. He caught himself watching Jonesy's mouth as much as Katy's body and felt his mouth go dry. Jonesy could make Katy Kat make all kinds of noises with his mouth, and he started to wonder what it might feel like if his bro--. 

"You two are really okay with me going off and trying this?" Katy saved him from that line of thought. Her eyes were all big and she looked almost soft. As soft as Katy got, anyway. The sister of the toughest guy in Letterkenny had her own reputation to uphold. 

"Well...yeah." Reilly pushed up so he could look at her proper. "How many other broskis can say they've got a real-life model as their girlfriend?" 

"Yeah babe, you're a rockstar now. Certified Grade-A supermodel," Jonesy grinned, nuzzling against the soft skin of her breast.

"Hey, whoa. I never said we're dating again." She shoved Jonesy off of her and sat up. "This is just for old times sake." 

"Aw, Katy, don't be like that--" 

"We've really missed you, Katy Kat." Reilly glanced across her to Jonesy, sharing a confused look. They'd both thought when she invited them back to her place, well, that things were finally back on track. They'd get their girl back, and then hockey would fall back into place. 

"Yeah, I'm sure you spent a lot of time thinking about me between all your road blowies," Katy rolled her eyes. "Give me a break. And hand me my shirt." 

Reilly reached over to the nightstand to grab the tank top even as he started, "No, we haven't--"

"I mean, there was the one night with the handies--" 

"But we were drunk! And we left before things got hotter and heavier!" 

"Yeah, it was too fast and too furious and we Tokyo drifted right out of there!" 

"But other than that--" 

"I mean, we dusted on pracky a few times too--" 

"Yeah, so we haven't been going on that many roadies anyway..." Reilly slumped backwards. They'd gone on the last one because two of the older guys both broke their legs in one freak accident involving a ditch, a cow, and a flock of Canada gooses.

Katy paused, glancing between them. "You two skipped practice?" Neither of them met her eyes. "I mean, you skip leg day all the time. And you've never finished a crossfit workout. But I don't think I ever saw you skip practice." 

"Rock bottom bro," Jonesy murmured. Reilly avoided her gaze. 

"....okay. Reilly, I'm gonna braid your hair because it's almost as long as mine now. Jonesy, you can still braid mine, right? And you two are gonna tell me what the hell's happening." Katy pulled her top on and moved to the middle of the bed. Reilly had no idea that Jonesy could braid, but sure enough, his buddy slid behind Katy Kat and started finger-combing her hair. She patted the bed in front of her, but Reilly sat transfixed for a second. 

"You can braid, buddy?" 

"Yeah buddy," Jonesy glanced up, smiling. "Three sisters, remember?" 

"Reilly, get over here." Katy had that tone he knew, the one where she was dancing on the edge of impatience, and he'd been on the wrong side of that dance. He popped in front of her and settled down cross-legged, like they used to do at school. 

As she ran fingers over his scalp, she prompted, "So. Hockey?" 

"Well--" Reilly started. He tried to turn and look at his best buddy, but Katy jerked his hair to keep his head in place. 

"Well, the Irish, they all worship leg day, Katy Kat," Jonesy filled in. "And they keep calling us schmeltz." 

"Yeah, and they love fucking with us. Like. Sharting in our faces fucking with us. You just don't shart in another dude's face. That's like. That's just locker room etiquette. That's minding your P's and Q'sies." 

"That's basic please and thank you's, boys. You open a door, you keep your sharts in your pants." 

"Let someone else go first, share your sando with your bro, don't shart in his face." 

"Boys!" Katy snapped. "Say shart one more time and I'm kicking you both out, you degens." 

"Sorry, Katy Kat," they chimed together. 

"So, the guys are mean to you. You two were hell on the schmeltz with the Shamrocks. When'd you stop giving them shit?" Katy's fingers worked in Reilly's hair for a second as he considered, trying to think back to when the rookies had finally become bros. The sweat was cooling on his skin and his muscles were all relaxed and it'd been easily a year since Katy'd last braided his hair like this. He had to fight to focus on hockey. 

"When they finally started playing like real wheelers?" He asked the room, and by the room he meant Jonesy. Luckily, Jonesy knew that. 

"Ferda, buddy. When they earned their keep on the team and stopped fucking around like a bunch of Sallies." He couldn't see his bro, but he could hear the way he was smiling in realization.

"And are you two fucking around like a pair of Sallies?" 

The way Katy said it made Reilly's heart stop for a second, before his brain made the connections with the conversation. She wasn't accusing them of--not that he thought she'd care if they--wait. Were they fucking around on the ice? 

"We are being a pair of schmeltz," the blonde said, lightbulb going off. 

"No duh. You can't skip leg day and Crossfit and cardio AND practice. At some point you become a hick on skates." 

They both made injured noises, and Jonesy said, "No reason to go for the low blows, Katy Kat." 

Reilly could feel her chuckle at them. "Someone has to kick your asses into shape so you don't fall apart while I'm gone. No snipe's gonna go for a couple of benchwarmers with their tails between their legs." 

"You're okay with us going for snipes?" Jonesy asked. The surprise in his voice matched Reilly's own. She'd dumped them for fooling around, and it'd taken Wayne's squinty, exasperated explanation for them to get why. Could've been worse, though. Could've been Wayne's granite fucking mitts doing the explaining. 

"I honestly don't care what you do. You could go for each other for all I care; we're not together anymore." This time, she wasn't angry when she said it. It was just a fact. Sky's blue, ice is cold, Wayne's the toughest guy in Letterkenny, and they weren't getting back together. Katy pulled a hair twistie off her wrist and tied off the end of his braid. "You can't get me back, boys, but you can fix your hockey problems. You just have to act like hockey players. And you know where that starts?" 

Reilly could turn again, and he did, groaning with Jonesy in unison, "Leg day."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all of this is unbeta'd and written with the help of wine, so sorry for any errors!

**Author's Note:**

> Wayne realizes that Jonesy and Reilly have a lot of things to come to terms with, enough that he's willing not to run them off for being dumber than a coupla bags of rocks.
> 
> Also, the title's from Balto.


End file.
